


Lifeline

by opalmatrix



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Despair, First Meetings, M/M, Rescue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-07
Updated: 2014-07-07
Packaged: 2018-02-07 15:00:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1903389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/opalmatrix/pseuds/opalmatrix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Hakkai hits bottom, a familiar hand pulls him back.  Set approximately five years before "Return to Me."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lifeline

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Weiss vs. Saiyuki, Tanabata Mini Challenge: Lovers Separated/Reunited, Drabble or Side Story. Actually, it's a prequel. Beta by **[smillaraaq](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Smillaraaq/)**.

In the morning, it had been one of those gleaming, still October days, with a brilliant blue sky. Now a cold wind was snatching the bright red maple leaves from the thrashing branches, and tattered grey clouds streamed overhead. Hakkai ducked into the bar near the university, raindrops clinging to his hair, soaking into the shoulders of his only suit, spattered across his battered briefcase. The place was filled with academics and townsfolk alike, and he was relieved to find an empty table in a back corner.

A waitress who looked barely old enough to be serving liquor took his order: a double Macallan scotch, the most expensive thing he could think of. It would put a serious dent in his wallet but the hell with it. He could buy a ticket back to the town from which he had come, but that place was not his home, and he didn't have a job there, either. He'd thought he really had a chance at the teaching assistantship in the history department.

It was amazing, the difference a few hours could make.

He sipped the whiskey slowly, trying to make it last. If he finished the drink, he would have no choice but to leave soon thereafter. Nothing awaited him tonight but a walk through the wind and rain and a likely sleepless night in his cheap motel room.

And all too soon, the liquor was gone.

The waitress returned to his table, but instead of the check, she carried another double, apparently full of the same whiskey.

"I didn't order this," said Hakkai.

"This guy bought it for you," she said.

Hakkai looked around, stunned. He knew no one in this town.

"The red-headed one at the bar. He's a regular," said the girl. "Nice guy. Good tipper. I guess he thought you needed it,"

She turned to the next table, where a couple of bearded fellows were pointing out their empty beer glasses. Hakkai looked toward the bar. A familiar face was smiling at him. Hakkai blinked and then realized that in fact, he had never seen this man before. His red hair was long, brushing against broad shoulders covered with a black leather jacket, open to reveal a T shirt with the logo of some rock band. He had long legs as well, in blue denim, finished with what looked to be black engineer boots.

He had a beautiful smile, warm and encouraging.

Hakkai raised the glass of whiskey in a salute, and the other man apparently took it as an invitation, sliding off the bar stool, grabbing the plastic shopping bag at his feet, and strolling over.

Oh dear, thought Hakkai. Now what?

"Hey," said the man, pleasantly, and held out his hand. "Gojyo Sha."

"Hakkai Cho," said Hakkai, automatically, putting the glass back on the table and taking the large, long-fingered hand in his own. 

Sha shook it once, firmly, and then gestured at the empty chair opposite Hakkai. "Mind if I have a seat?"

"Er, no. Thank you for the drink."

"You looked like you needed it. Bad day? Or just the shitty weather?" Sha put his shopping on the table and settled into the chair.

Hakkai's first thought was that it was none of this man's business, even if the fellow had just bought him a very pricey drink. His second was that he had nothing else to do with his time, and really, what difference did it make? "I came to this town for a job interview. Less than two hours afterward, I got a call on my cell, telling me that they had hired someone else."

"Aw, man, that's harsh. You live far away?"

"A five-hour train trip. I'll go back tomorrow."

"You have work there?"

"No."

"Damn."

"I thought I had a good chance at this job. I was well qualified."

"What happened?"

"I believe they were reluctant to hire a former criminal." Hakkai expected to regret the words as soon as they left his lips, but he didn't. It must be the liquor talking, he thought. Everything was a little hazy, a little less urgent.

"You served your time, right?"

"Yes. But I suppose a university has its standards." He studied the plastic shopping bag. "Serendipity Books? What did you get?" Sha didn't look or sound like much of a reader, and the contents of the bag seemed flat and thin.

Sha shook out the bag: comic books and a bound volume of newspaper strips. "Nice place. Always has the latest issues. Don't know how much longer it's gonna last. Pop Weiss is gettin' on, and I don't think he's making a lot of money."

"There aren't that many independent bookstores left. Dying out, like so many good things." Hakkai closed his eyes for a moment. The murmur of the crowded bar was almost a lullaby.

"What time's your train tomorrow? You could check it out."

"Yes, but then I would want to buy something. As it is, I'm not sure I have enough for the return ticket."

"You're kidding. You didn't buy a round trip? It's cheaper."

"I was hoping I'd be staying."

"But … what about your stuff?"

"I have it all with me. Such as it is." Hakkai gestured expansively, causing his chair to sway dangerously. When Sha looked around, startled, Hakkai added: "Back at the motel."

"Dude. Wow."

"I was only living in a rented room anyway."

"Well, shit. So even if you have enough for your ticket back, what the hell are you going to live on once you get back to wherever it is?"

"That is a bit of a problem." Hakkai took another swallow of whiskey. The golden liquid burned its way down his throat, warming him. Or perhaps the source of the warmth was the kind acceptance in the eyes gazing into his. "Really, I must apologize. I don't know why I'm spilling my guts like this, as though I've known you forever." He smiled.

Sha blinked, startled for some reason. He looked away for a moment, then turned back to Hakkai and took a deep breath. "Got it. OK. Which motel?"

Hakkai yawned. "Roadway Inn."

"That rat trap. Figures." Sha turned in his chair and flagged down the waitress. "Hey, Kelsey: check?" She waved back and headed for the cash register. Sha tucked his comics back into their bag. "Finished your drink?"

Hakkai held up the glass and studied it. "Almost." He finished it in one gulp, feeling it hit bottom. Everything around him glowed and hummed. A strong arm was around him, hauling him to his feet. They moved together, like partners on the dance floor, making Hakkai smile again. Cold wind slapped him in the face again, so that his eyes ran, and then he was sitting down again, surrounded by a smell of old cigarette smoke. They were in an old car, a rather dirty one, but the engine roared along contentedly enough after a ragged start. And here was the motel. How convenient.

Sha walked him up to the counter. "Checking out?" said the clerk, apparently miles away.

"Yeah," said Sha.

"No?" said Hakkai, but apparently he was: arranged on the lobby floor were his duffle, his small suitcase, his ancient laptop. Sha took the two large bags, leaving Hakkai to stagger behind with the computer. "Where are we going?" he asked, when he was settled in Sha's odoriferous car once more.

"You're comin' home with me." The engine roared to life more easily this time.

"Oh … no, I couldn't presume."

"Yeah? Well, you can't do anything else much right now, so you might as well."

Sha was probably right. Hakkai's head sagged back against the seat, his eyes closing again. When he woke up, Sha was pulling him out of the car and hoisting him up the stairs of a little apartment building. They were in a hallway, with dim lights and a scuffed carpet, and Sha opened a door into a small, dingy apartment that smelled of dirty dishes and unwashed laundry, but surprisingly, not of cigarettes. There was a battered sofa, a small table with three chairs, another door, and then a bedroom, with a tousled, unmade double bed. Hakkai's baggage stood beside it on the worn plank floor. He blinked at it. "Where did that come from?"

"Damn," said Sha, and wrestled him out of his damp suit jacket. "Lie down."

"My trousers … ." Hakkai struggled with his belt. Sha batted his hands away and undid the buckle and trouser fastenings. The trousers dropped to Hakkai's ankles, and Sha pushed him so that he fell back onto the bed. He struggled to pull his feet out of the tangle of damp wool, and Sha sighed, exasperated, and pulled off his shoes, socks, and the trousers. He hoisted Hakkai's legs onto the bed and pulled the sheet and blanket over him, then reached across him to snag one of the pillows and the coverlet.

The room was spinning with the aftermath of Hakkai's sudden change of position. He watched helplessly as Sha flicked off the light and stood silhouetted in the doorway, a lanky, broad-shouldered figure, comforting and safe.

Sha shook his head, the light behind him sliding across his high cheekbones, picking out his long eyelashes. "This is the first and last time I am ever takin' a dude to my bed."

"Yes, sir," said Hakkai, and then there was nothing but the soft, worn pillow, the warm blanket, and the familiar scent of the man whose bed he shared.

 


End file.
